


Collection of mcsmooch SGA ficlets

by elizaria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaria/pseuds/elizaria
Summary: Back in 2008-2009 I posted a few ficlets in the Livejournal community mcsmooch (Stargate Atlantis), Sheppard/McKay





	1. Keeping watch (over you)

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted 2008-11-13, https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/101499.html]  
> Keeping watch (over you)  
> 546 words, rated G, unbetaed
> 
> He's been on an awayteam for how long now? Yet, it's always been something he fears to fail in more than anything. His team on the other hand seem to have complete trust in him and that makes parts of him knot tight and hot, like a fist underneath his breastbone.

The trees around him are quiet, barely a soft rustling of leaves and it easens his stance some. Here, in this quiet he'll easily hear if anyone tries to sneak up on them. Rodney never likes having watch. For once it's not rooted into his distaste of nature and being uncomfortable. It's not because of the bugs that always come out at night no matter which planet they're on. Nor the chill, or the damp mist rolling in that'll keep him miserable until he's rolled tight into his sleeping bag trying to build up some warmth again.   
  
No, it's the scary responsibility of being the one to keep the others safe. He's been on an awayteam for how long now? Yet, it's always been something he fears to fail in more than anything. His team on the other hand seem to have complete trust in him and that makes parts of him knot tight and hot, like a fist underneath his breastbone.  
  
He sighs, moves a bit to keep from stiffening up completely, and that's when he hears it. The snap of a twig, leaves making that soft noise when someone steps on them - Ronon has if nothing else been very thorough in teaching him every sound, to the point he can recognise each and every one of them. To know where the danger's coming from, and turn his body like so to not make sounds of shifting cloth and ready his weapon.  
  
"It's just me. Don't shoot."   
  
Rodney's tense enough to almost pull the trigger when he hears Sheppard's voice. He straightens with a snap and forgets everything about being quiet. "What are you, nuts or something? You do not sneak up on the guy holding the gun. I could've shot you!"  
  
"Shh, Rodney. You don't wanna wake up everyone." Sheppard looks sleepyeyed and cold, blanket hanging over his shoulders as he clears the trees and joins Rodney.  
  
"Yeah, don't be too sure about that. Maybe I want them to hear about you being stupid." But his voice is already quieter. "You okay?" Rodney nudges Sheppard as he leans back against the wide treetrunk again, his P-90 hanging from his vest again rather than clutched tight in his hands.  
  
"Mmm. Woke up and couldn't sleep." Sheppard curls up into his blanket as he sits down on the ground, at least the tree has left enough of pine needles in a soft mat that's still dry.  
  
"You barely even look awake, sure you're okay?" Rodney looks down at the ruffled hair and let's his hand follow the shape of John's head as he gently scritches his fingers through the soft birdsnest John calls hair.  
  
"Mrmphh ... fine." Rodney doesn't believe a word of the muffled sounds out the nest of blanket and Sheppard, but it doesn't matter. Sheppard's a warm prescence against his thigh, soft hair sliding through Rodney's fingers and soon the soft snuffles of John falling asleep again. Rodney bends slowly so not to wake John up and plants a soft kiss on his nape, before he wraps the blanket around John tighter to keep the mist from creeping inside. He leaves his hand in John's hair while listening in on the surroundings again, this time much more relaxed but no less attentive.


	2. Safe as houses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [originally posted https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/118190.html]  
> 636 words, h/c, PG, John/Rodney (mentions past McKay/Keller)  
> unbetaed

Sheppard's hands are dry, maybe a bit cold, but Rodney can't forget the the blood. John's hands sliding out of his grip, as the blood makes them slick and oily, life pumping between their fingers to stain the earth black. Rodney curls his hands over John's to keep it warm. To keep the memories at bay, and to know that the pulse beating against his fingers quietly thumps  _alive, alive, alive_.   
  
The dark hair on John's knuckles stand out against the whiteness of the sheets, against skin still not recuperated after the severe blood loss and Rodney closes his eyes against the starkness. Instead he lets his skin feel the warmth of John's arm against his cheek, turns John's wrist so Rodney can rest his lips against that soft spot just above his hand. The one that usually makes John withdraw his hand with a murmur of  _'stop that, it tickles'_. Rodney won't hear it this time, won't hear it for at least a couple of days more. John will be fine, he  _will_  and Rodney intellectually knows this. But for once his brain completely folds, and his  _feelings_  own the situation. His stupid feelings that has a voice that won't shut up. It's babbling all kinds of doom-scenarios and maybe if he just sits here and breathes in the scent of John (it's there, underneath the hospital smell, if he leans in close enough) it'll give up.  
  
\---  
  
Jennifer came by to check on him a little while ago. On both of them. She does that, and Rodney hadn't thought they'd be so ... relaxed with each other. Not after everything, and usually Rodney's exes act like they hate him. But maybe the Atlantis people are different, because Katie was awkward but never mean to him afterwards. Jennifer skipped past awkward, she just talked, and made him talk and in there it got embarrassing because she pointed out to him that maybe Rodney cared more for John than as a best friend. He should've been smart to realise that, to see it for where it had been going for years. Of course, she did say that Rodney tended to be blind about some things, which she was right about. He even had to say that out loud to her, and admit he was wrong and not just sorry. He owed her.  
  
Jennifer was good like that, and it was worth the talk then because now there was no talk needed. She watched their backs whenever one of them had to stay longer than one night in the infirmary. Tomorrow Rodney would give her chocolate from his hidden stash, because she had come by with a blanket, hot coffee and a sandwich and sat with him for a while. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until she gently prodded him awake, checked John's vitals and told him the good news. Both of them. That John was doing fine, and that DADT was  _finally_  removed. Rodney could stay as long as he liked, just let the nurses know if he wanted a bed pulled in to get some real sleep.  
  
\---  
  
Maybe he'll bother with the bed later, right now he's just going to curl up here and listen to John's breathing. Love the feel of John's skin warming up underneath his hands, and kiss the fragile skin with it's life  _thump, thump, thumping_  against his lips. And not have to worry incase he falls asleep and someone sees. Rodney can let his face write their emotions when he watches John, doesn't have to hide how happy he is that John's okay. That he can kiss him good morning when they fetch their first mug of coffee for the day.  
  
Tomorrow he's going to kiss John and the day after that. And the day after that.  
  
Because now he can do that.


	3. Kissing when there aren't words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [originally posted 2009-04-16 https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/139098.html]  
> 873 words of porn with kisses pretty much, John/Rodney, NC-17  
> (unbeta'ed)

Rodney arched his back into John's hands and bit his lip not to be so damn loud. It was hard not being loud when John worked him slowly like this, teased him with slow rolls and his hands, holding Rodney tight in the cradle against his hips and thighs. Rodney wanted to curse him out, to tell him to move and harder, but he knew that as soon as he did Sheppard would slow down even more with that smug (evil) grin on his face.

His hair and the shadows splayed out through the room seemed to conspire to create a dark halo around John’s head, drips of sweat at his temples and his teeth white against dark stubble and tanned face. They'd had a good summer so far, none of them had had to stay overnight in the infirmary which was seriously a good thing, especially with John taking every chance possible to hang with the Athosians and plays beach bunny. With a handmade surfboard.

Rodney was lacking in patience tonight, he wanted John deep inside him, hard and heavy against him and feel his hands hold him close as they worked together towards a gray matter endangering kind of orgasm. He snagged his hands in John's dogtag chain and pulled him down, bit his lip to get John to open up with a moan and sink his tongue into that warm panting mouth. Rodney loved the sounds John made when he was surprised like this, soft happy sounds as his hands glided against Rodney's flanks to find better purchase and move them for a better position to kiss in. 

They'd been turning to each other for sex for a while (four hundred and twenty-three days and six hours, but who was counting) but it's only been the past four months (one hundred and twenty-seven days) that it'd been like this. They'd kissed earlier as well, Rodney wasn't one to say no to kisses. Kisses was one of the good things about sex and he wasn't about to give that up even if all they were was friends-who-occasionally-have-sex. But not these kinds of kisses that made him feel drugged, John's mouth never feeling wrong against his. Never a kiss too wet, or too much teeth or sloppy tongue-work. No, this was addictive and Rodney could curl up and just kiss John till his lips felt bruised and sore and yet it wouldn't be enough.

Rodney wrapped the chain in his fingers as he arched up to meet John's mouth, and John only grinned as Rodney pulled him down with him. John's hands bracketing Rodney's head as he arched above him like something that ought to have horns and be spelled like i-n-c-u-b-u-s. John bit Rodney's lip as he leaned back into Rodney's legs crossed tightly behind to hold him (close) in place, that unholy smile on John’s face as he grabbed Rodney and pulled out only to come back deep and hard.

Rodney would have smiled at the concentration on John's face if he could to anything but moan and tilt his head back with his eyes closed to not come just yet. He wanted to enjoy this buzzing feeling in his veins a little longer, the orgasm closer and closer every time John sunk into him. Deep and hard and perfect. He clutched his hand around John's forearm as he couldn't stop it anymore and the buzzing turned into that deep orgasm that made his limbs shiver, his legs and toes spasm and his body curl tight like a ball. Only to flop out like something exhausted, content and coasting on endorphins. Looking up at John and the smile on his face would almost have done the trick itself. Rodney could almost feel something deep inside clench at the look of happiness staring right back at him. It's a good thing John comes back for more kisses, urgent ones as he moves with short jerky movements inside Rodney, because like this Rodney can't speak. His tongue too busy to say words, while he knows the feeling behind them are as sure as Atlantis, it'd just be embarrassing for both of them. They use chocolate, Ancient doodads and speed upgrades for the 'jumpers - a language they both can speak. And use in public.

Rodney wraps his hands in John's hair and twists his hips into John's thrusts, shudders as John screws his hips and feels impossibly deeper inside him. Kisses him, eats John's sounds as he's almost sobbing into Rodney's breath, and moves his hands to grab John's ass. His hands doesn't do much more than touch John, sliding down in between and he can feel the body twitch and curl in against him. The explosive breath against Rodney's face as John buries his head in Rodney's shoulder and comes with almost no sound.

They're wet with sweat, sticky and legs sore from the position they're in but for now Rodney's content to lie here and feel John's chest move against his with each panting breath, lips speaking without sound against the sensitive skin on his throat. Words like kisses into every beat of his pulse, and Rodney knows that this isn't silence as much as quiet secrets shared between them.


	4. Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [originally posted 2009-09-28 https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/162968.html]  
> (John/Rodney, PG, 679 words)  
> post-series, has a sequel; When the rain let's up

Some days when it's rainy and cold and he misses the halls of Atlantis and the way she'd turn up the heat for his morning shower, living on Earth seems like a punishment. The chill sets in his bones, makes his scars ache and the hand of Wraith on his chest prickle like there's still something hiding underneath his skin. So maybe he's a bit grumpy in those mornings, cutting his shower brief and taking his coffee with him in his travel-mug rather than say "Good morning". Hides in his office and hoards calculations like it'd save him from meetings and designs to approve, bites his tongue to not be pissy with his assistant because it's not Jonathon's fault that John has a bad day.  
  
Lunch is a quick thing, he's in no mood to linger over food when nothing feels like it should have been, he misses the voices, the noise and his friends seated around him. So he makes his awful day short as possible and plans to go home and brood, but instead he finds himself taking a detour on the way home. Parking his car at an overlook of San Francisco Bay, the grey waves rolling in and the rain hanging in heavy sheets of grey coming closer to fall over the city as evening arrives. This water does nothing to diminish his longing for Atlantis, if he closes his eyes he can still see her gentling in the waves, a stopping point on her long trip to safety and her new home.  
  
He hasn't been Earthbound for long, it's only 18 months ago and he wishes he could go back every day. But as he turns the car around to go home, his phone ringing with an angry noise of repetition, he remembers why he stayed.  
  
He lets Rodney yell at him over the earpiece as he drives, it's so much later than he'd thought that the traffic's already let up. He'd forgotten time while looking at waves. Again. But the voice in his ear is what brings him home. Who  _makes_  Earth, their house in the suburbs, and working 9 to 5 a home.  
  
John feels guilty for worrying him, again. It's something he can't seem to stop doing but the days are fewer in between when he feels like a big chunk of him is missing. A part that was the home he never knew he'd always wished for until he met her. Steps glowing in welcome and sounds whispering in his ears of "Welcome home". Rodney gets angry, tired and sad of competing with her and some days it feels that no matter what John says Rodney still won't believe that John's happy with his choice.  
  
The little choice he had. Commandeered home, to Earth where eyes would be on them, where they would have to hide and John's life would have to be a big secret to keep again. Maybe he'd get a desk job in the mountain with the occasional walk through the gate if he'd chosen to stay with the military. The mountain and Stargate Command would never be what Atlantis had been for him, and it was not so easy but frighteningly right to show Rodney he meant his choice. To not hide but instead kiss Rodney when the gates closed behind them, let the security cameras roll and be sure to kill all possibilities of a return to service. That he wouldn't wake up one day and regret his honorable discharge.  
  
It was easier to buy a house together, sleep in the same bed and wake up blearily together when the alarm went off. Easy to slouch on the back porch with beers in their hands and kiss lazily as the weekend spread out ahead of them.  
  
To slam the door of his car and run in from the rain, to kiss the worried words out of Rodney's mouth and ignore the raindrops sliding down his face. To hide in his neck and hold him close and whisper  _home, I'm home_ , against his skin.


	5. When the rain let's up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [originally posted 2009-09-29 https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/164818.html]  
> When the rain let's up (Rodney/John, R?), sequel to Rainy Days  
> Because people are awesome and their comments gave me apparently more to write (which has been severly lacking lately so really - thank you guys!) here's part two of this mcsmooch-ficlet where it's a bit further down the road and we get Rodney's POV.
> 
> 1696 words, unbet'ed, post-series

Rodney turned on his side and looked over to John. The rain was pitterpatterning against the bedroom window, and he could hear it pick up with gusts of wind hitting the side of their house. Winter was here, and there would be more rain and chillier days. He didn't mind it so much besides the way it seemed to affect John and his mood swings. The quiet and his late evenings where Rodney knew he'd been parked out by the bay, staring at the waves and saying nothing. The first times it'd happened Rodney had ended up tracking him down, sitting beside him in the car and giving up trying to start a conversation. To make John talk about it. If John didn't want to talk it was like squeezing blood out of a stone, you only strained yourself and gained nothing.  
  
Oh Rodney knew John was missing Atlantis, it wasn't like he was the only one missing the real home either of them had ever had. Rodney missed his laboratories, the advances that hecould've made in-house rather than with the pieces he got delivered to tinker with. His co-workers and the many friends it'd taken him a while to realise he'd had, their brains which were a vast difference from the current minions and lab-partners and the whispering sounds of technology as Atlantis showed her pleasure at Rodney's achievements.  
  
The pressure of life and death situations that still was the best motivator Rodney had ever had even if the danger wasn't really something he missed. He'd settled into the routine of working in a fast pace but not crazy fast so he'd have to take stimulants or stop sleeping, coming home in all sorts of varied hours but also having days off. These were just the first things Rodney found he'd enjoyed by living here on Earth, and the small list continued to grow in the positive column.  
  
Like knowing that he could sleep in the same bed beside John and no longer worry about the mornings or being woken up by alarms and his headset screaming at him, and enjoying lunches where John would take him out and remind him to eat and kiss him goodbye afterwards.  
  
Going on trips to see Jeannie, and having the kids over for weekends now that they weren't so itty bitty small and terrifying anymore. Taking John on trips down to Santa Cruz boardwalk and watch him riding the Giant Dipper and kiss the silly grin out of his face. Even if it's a sacrifice, it's one Rodney makes by his own choice as he ignores his own fear of heights and holds John's hand tight in his sweaty own and rides the Ferris wheel with him. The prize being more of those wide smiles that makes John's eyes crinkle and his deep braying laugh till Rodney forgets his fears just by looking at the joy on John's face.  
  
The cat John had bought for him that likes to purr in his lap as they watch Discovery, the awesome food, chocolate and coffee that he'd been missing every single day at mealtime. The museums, Universities and other faculties that scrape and beg for him to visit, cocktail parties that Rodney only goes to show off John in his dress blues and eat upeveryone's facial expressions with a spoon.  
  
  
Rodney likes it here, he's made a home here and he wished John could to so too. So much that sometimes it hurt watching John being all quiet and subdued. He reached out towards John, but dropped his hand between them and looked at it instead of John. "You okay? You've been very quiet lately. Moreso than usual which basically means mute in your case."  
  
John grunted, his hands folded behind his neck as he lay on his back and seemed to stare up at the ceiling. Like maybe it'd hold some clue, some revelation to solve whatever it was crowding John's brain. "I -"  
  
"Wow, one word. That's the first thing you've said in two days John. Do you even realise how long you've been like a silent shadow in this house? It's been a whole week like this where the only words have been the necessary ones, a repeat of nothings and pass me the damn salt. It's been two years since Atlantis John. How much longer are you going to grieve because frankly, it's pissing me off. We're turning into my parents and I - hate - it."  
  
Rodney scrambled out of bed, pulling on his robe so quickly he tore the seam of the arm but he was too angry to care. Too sad and fed up and worried sick. He was in such a hurry to leave the bedroom that another seam tore as he realised John was holding onto the robe to keep him from leaving. "Rodney wait, come on. Please."  
  
John was half sprawled on the bed, stomach down and his hands a white-knuckled grip on his robe, his eyes large and wide and making Rodney feel like he was the bad guy here. Which he wasn't. "Can't you just let me be angry for a while John. I know there's no magic fix-it for Atlantis but there're limits to my patience and you know I explode and get it out of my system so would you just let me leave before I say anything... too much?"  
  
"Come here Rodney, please. Just let me... please."  
  
That last please was already one too many. Rodney didn't want John to have to say it like that, like Rodney would leave and not come back when all he was going to was the kitchen and a big vat of coffee with chocolate cake and cool down. Rodney stood at the side of the bed, reached out and helped John crawl up on his knees so they were almost eye to eye. "Rodney just listen, okay. I just ... words difficult." There was a small wavering smile that Rodney couldn't help but return, their constant joke about John and talking and feelings. It was strange that Rodney would be the better one of them, when he'd always been told off for being emotionally stunted, ignorant, selfish and generally bad at everything not technological.  
  
So when John leaned his hands on Rodney's hips and hid his face against the cotton robe Rodney let him, already knowing that this was the fastest way of getting anything out of John without having to wait half a day. "I haven't been quiet because I've been thinking about ... Atlantis. That was the thing, that I had to figure out. Because I realised that I haven't been ... homesick." The last word hurt when Rodney heard it, hurt in the way it meant but also the sound of John's voice saying it. Small and broken and sad.  
  
"It's been so strange, because it hit me the other night that I haven't been feeling the lack ... of her. But leaving work on Wednesday, and it was miserable weather and you looked so surprised when I came home early and I couldn't understand why. Till you handed me the ibuprofen and the heating pad, and peered at me like you were waiting for me to do something, and I realised that I'd never once thought about Atlantis that day. The knee hurt, and the shoulder and I usually just go and hide from you don't I?"  
  
John looked up and Rodney was out of words, empty like his brain had stalled at the look on John's face and the hand cupping Rodney's jaw. "So I did it again but that was because I just needed to think and I'm sorry Rodney. But this is home, and I'm happy here. Really I am."  
  
Rodney just stared at him and wasn't sure if anything but the word  _finally_  doing jumps and circles in his mind, relief like something tangible lifting from his shoulders.  
  
John made a face, "I really worried you. Oh hell, I'm so sorry. God, Rodney, I just...". There was a thumb stroking Rodney's lips, and a hungry desperate look in John's eyes before he crowded in close and grabbed Rodney tight. Licked his lips and dove in deep with a need that took Rodney by surprise but made him grab on tighter, curl his hands in John's hair and open John's mouth with a greedy tongue. Bit his lips and swore into the kiss, angry at John for worrying him and utter relief of having him needy and wanting in his arms. Rodney kissed them both breathless, made them panting with it before he pulled off and stared at John. At his eyes wide and open and looking at Rodney with all the trust in the world, like being handed something precious and dangerous at the same time. Rodney caressed John's face with a shaky hand before he pushed him back onto the bed, pulled his legs and spread him out before him, just to watch. To enjoy the few seconds of anticipation he could make himself pause for, before he had to touch again, brush his hands over John's panting chest and feel his heart beat against his palm.  
  
It was Saturday and they had two whole days ahead of them, Rodney was planning on making every minute count, every second to pay for the past days worry. To make John cry out, loudly and in their own house where he didn't have to worry about anyone hearing. Kiss and touch and hold and make them sweaty with it, and then fool around in the shower because here at home they could do that. Then tomorrow he'd wake up to John's bleary too early in the morning smile, make them have breakfast in bed and even more sex, then wrap himself tight around John and be too warm and oddly content with it. Sleep late, have greasy food, slouch around and play Xbox, and go to bed for more sex and then sleep, without the desperate clinging need that weekends sometime leave Rodney with. Because now John is here, with him, at home. So simple, and yet everything.


End file.
